Drabble: Mind Fck
by MelMat
Summary: God he missed that face, the beautiful flawless skin. He had fallen in love with himself many years ago, but a certain event changed that drastically-


**Disclaimer**: Mello and Matt belong to Death Note creators, Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata

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Written to Narcissistic Cannibal by Korn (ft Skillex and Kill the Noise)

_**WARNING: THE USUAL! *HAHA***_

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_**"Sometimes, I hate, the life I made**_

_**Everything's, wrong every time**_

_**Pushing on I can't escape.."**_

"Matt?" Mello called out, half expecting his lover to answer him.

Mello combed the apartment but the red-head was no where to be found. So, he just figured Matt was still out watching Misa. He didn't' particularly like it, but it beats being bored all day doing it himself. He sat down on the couch, pulling his laptop into his lap. Mello entered the data he had discovered today that they would discuss later and closed it.

"Fuck-" He stated to himself, not wanting to get up, but knew he needed a shower. At least before Matt got home and took all the hot water.

Mello pulled himself up from the couch, and headed to the bathroom. He started the shower, and felt the heat as the room filled with steam. He took his precious baby from the safe confines of his pants and set her on the counter. Mello continued to strip the day away from his slender frame, and stepped into the waterfall of water.

Mello leaned forward, resting his head on his arms. The world melted away and he was alone, The thoughts that stayed at bay came crashing into the forefront of his brain. The mistakes he had made in life and to say only a few, maybe just two had their regrets.

He frowned as he continued with his shower. He ran the wet cloth over his body, being careful to clean gently over the left side. It was still tender, even after a year later. The suds of the shampoo and body wash, spiraled down the drain. He stood there for a second , then turned the water off.

Mello stepped out of the stall and closed the door as he grabbed his fluffy towel that hung on the rack. He moved forward to the sink , and wiped the fog from the mirror;

He jumped startled at what he saw. There was his face, but it was the one he had before the explosion, looking back at him.

"You remember me?" It said in a seductive tone. Mello nodded. "Of course you do."

The blonde was speechless, God he missed that face, the beautiful flawless skin. He had fallen in love with himself many years ago, but a certain event changed that drastically for him. Mello's hand touched the mirror. He felt it on his skin, he loved how it burned deep within him.

"Touch -" It demanded in a mock plea. "More."

His hand slid down his damp body and the towel hit the floor. Mello's fingers wrapped around his semi-hard shaft. They were cool but inviting. He looked up at his reflection, and the lust burned in his own eyes.

His hands moved slowly -

"Miss m-yourself?"

Mello pumped his hand faster, shifting himself closer to the counter. He lifted his right leg onto the flat surface and bent down.

"No watch yourself!' It interrupted." Watch yourself like the Narcissistic fucking bastard you are!"

Mello's head shot up, staring at the mirror.

"Oh fuck!" He moaned loudly as his hand worked it's magic on his cock. His grip tightened as he moved faster. His breath grew ragged and strokes uneven. Some were long and other short. He looked at the mirror and licked his lips at himself. His head fell back and mouth opened in a swan song of sounds. He was getting close, he felt himself tense.

"AAAAhhhhhhhhh, f-fuckkkkk! Yeah!" His hand moved faster and faster, jerking him off into his completion.

Mello rested his head on his arm, trying to catch his breath. He laughed not believing what his mind had concocted, then leaned down to pick up the towel he dropped minutes before. He stood back up with a smile on his face, only to have it vanish in what seemed like milliseconds.

"Look at what you did to us!" The blonde was taken back with the image. It was the new Mello, the one that wore the scars like a badge of courage, but in truth only reflected his failure.

He shook his head no, almost in a panic. His reflection told him he was worthless, that the legacy of L would have perished in his hands. He couldn't make it at Wammy's House and the real world used and abused him, like the pitiful whore that he was.

Mello leaned forward against the counter. His hand slipped over his gun and in pure instinct his fingers wrapped around it. In his head he heard the tainted reflection laugh at him. He pushed himself away from the cold smooth surface and held the gun up to the mirror. His reflection taunted him more, as his finger twitched, itching to pull the trigger. It told him he wouldn't do it, he was to much of a failure.

"Fuck you!" Mello's eyes burned with pure hatred for himself, no for this part of him.

The gun went off in his hand like an intense orgasm. The bullet destroyed the image Mello had fought so hard to forget, as the glass shattered. The shards rained down on him, some larger pieces cutting into him.

It was over as his body hit the floor, kneeling on the cool ceramic tile. The gun cradled in his hands he sat there and for once a feeling of euphoria consumed him.

The emotional torture he felt, was over. He had won, he had beaten his worst enemy-

-HIMSELF.


End file.
